Something To Talk About
by ImpassionedWriter
Summary: Dean's holed up in a hotel waiting for Sam. He's never been in one place for this long and is going out of his mind. But among his new 'neighbors' is a strange yet intriguing man named Castiel who might just be able to shake things up. Dean doesn't really know what's going on between them until he overhears a shocking rumor and starts considering the depth of their relationship.
1. Sexy Strangers and Stalking

_All right-y, you guys! :D A long awaited Destiel story! Firstly and most importantly, thank you SO SO SO incredibly much Countess Impossible! You are a constant source of inspiration and support and in such a short time we have become so close! This is written for you, through and through~BFF! Their first meeting was a little more intense than I wanted, but I guess you can't stop the loooove :3 This story, in case you hadn't noticed, is inspired by the song 'Something to Talk About' by Bonnie Raitt :) As you can tell, I've changed it a little bit- Enjoy!_

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**Chapter One~ Fate**

* * *

Dean had been waiting for Sam to show up for two days now. Normally, he would have been worried; but since Sam had called and assured him that he was okay and only going to be a little late, he was just pissed off. It sucked that he had to waste his time wandering around some hick town in Virginia. Especially when they had a fresh case waiting! But they had split up after the last one to take some time off and get their shit together.

Since Dean had sold his soul to bring Sam back, they were kind of off their game. But all they needed was time; to collect themselves, to re-sharpen their skills. All things considered, it was going well. No one had died; at least no one that hadn't deserved to. And both boys physically unscathed. Emotionally... there were some unresolved issues. But it wasn't anything that couldn't be shoved aside until it actually became a problem.

So, for now, Dean was stuck in a sort of limbo. Waiting for Sam with absolutely nothing to do. What a wonderful time to stir shit up. Unfortunately, this town was deader than the last ghost they had 'put to rest'. But since Sam had rejected the idea of staying put until _Dean_ came to get him, he was trapped here.

The town wasn't_ too_ bad. But the people were all cold shoulders, lofty glances, and drawled whispers. You would think that Dean wouldn't stand out that much, but here he stuck out like a very loud, very rowdy thumb.

The hotel he was checked into was cheap- definitely cheap- and boasted no impressive aspects. The carpet was stained and curling up at the edges, the wallpaper was torn, and the lights flickered; due to bad wiring, Dean made it a point to check.

On his first day there, he was nearly dissuaded by the shocking amount of roaches hiding beneath the bed. But he had no choice. He had to wait for Sam. And wait he would; but if Sam expected him to still be here, he had better hurry up.

It was Dean's second night in the rundown building. He was almost ready to give in and move to a different location. Even a _cleaner_ one would suffice. But where?

He stood in the hotel lobby, leaning against the wall, pretending to read the newspaper. It was last week's and full of bland news stories and boring events. What was it with small town people? Didn't they have any idea how to live?

Not that he wouldn't jump at the chance to bed a country girl. But then... he _was_ going to Hell. Sure, he could do anything he pleased; but what about them? Could you still go to Heaven after sleeping with a damned man? It didn't seem likely. Maybe it was just better not to risk anyone else's soul...

Dean was so consumed in his own thoughts that he missed the entrance of a solemn dark haired man. The man made his way to the front desk and uttered his inquiry in a low smooth voice. The young clerk seemed enamored by him as he replied with a nervous chirp.

The man nodded his head once and turned to walk down the hallway. It was then that Dean looked up, catching only a glimpse at the back of a trenchcoat. His eyebrow lifted in muted interest. He had seen several unusual outfits, but this was the first time he saw anyone wearing a trenchcoat in Summer. Probably some freak with a fetish about to get some action.

He returned to staring blandly at the newspaper. A nagging curiosity kept drawing his attention away, but the hallway was still empty when he looked up again.

A few minutes later, he was suprised by the abrupt appearance of a tall handsome man. The trenchcoat quickly identified him as the person Dean had seen before.

Dean quirked an eyebrow, taking in every detail about this man. From the confident, collected way he stood to the gentle motion of his stride. He held his head high and seemed uninterested in what was going on around him. His eyes were an electric ghostly blue framed by dark lashes. There was a shadow of stubble on his strong jawline. The way his face was portrayed, although his demeanor was cool, Dean could easily imagine what it would look like if he smiled. The image almost lured out a smile of his own.

The man slowed to a stop in the middle of the room. He suddenly looked over at Dean.

The hunter lowered his eyes immediately to the newspaper. His hair wasn't long enough to cover the crimson blush that rose wickedly on his cheeks. His skin was on fire with embarrassment; though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like he had been checking the man out. He was just... observing. In an overly interested leery way.

Dean was burning holes into the paper with his pointed gaze. He could still see the slim brunette in his peripheral. He just stood there, staring at Dean inquisitively. Then a cocky smugness slipped over his features and he grinned. He turned and walked briskly to the doors, making his exit.

Dean let out a deep breath that he didn't know he was holding. His heart hammered in his chest and he tried to regain his composure. That was so strange. What was it about this man that made him so nervous?

There was just something, something in his eyes, that made it feel like the world was tipping over. Dean had never felt that way before. No one person had ever made him feel like gravity had vanished and left him grasping for something to hold on to.

A hint of white made him vaguely aware of a scrap of paper lying on the floor. He walked over and bent down to pick it up. He blinked and tried to focus on what it said. It was a brochure, for a hotel less than ten miles from here. A better motel, with only slightly higher prices and infinitely better living conditions.

He peered at the brochure in wonder. Was it fate? That had to be it. After all, what were the odds that a map of exactly what he wanted would land at his feet? Who knows, maybe that man had been a messenger of the Lord.

Dean's smile lit up his whole countenance. He wasted no time in returning to his room and packing his suitcase; pausing only to shake the roaches out of a shirt he had unwisely left on the floor. He checked out that night and drove to the other hotel. Sure it cost a bit more, but it was worth it not to have to spend the rest of his waiting in torment. And besides, something exciting might even happen.

* * *

It was late when Dean arrived at his new location, so he didn't meet hardly anyone as he checked in and went in search of his room.  
This place was better by leaps and bounds than most of the other craphole hotels he had stayed in. Even the aura of the place was different. Orange-ish and... warm. It was a refreshing change from the drearily haunted life he was used to.

It seemed like only a few precious minutes of dozing, but before he knew it, it was morning and time to get up. He pulled the pillow over his head and groaned at the stream of sunlight sliding into the room from the open window.

Outside there was a mix of cars starting up and driving off and birds calling out to each other from the tree tops. The stuttering roar of a truck's engine made Dean smile to himself. There really was no comparison to the subtle purr of his Impala. It was hands down the most beatiful vehicle he had ever seen. And so much more than that; it was a piece of his and Sam's childhood. Countless memories were held inside that car. Everything from innocent acts of vandalism to the not so innocent bouts of love making which he would never admit to Sam.

But, whether he liked it or not, it was time to get up. He groaned, pushing the blankets back, and yawned once before standing. Then he scratched his head and walked to the bathroom, sluggishly dragging his feet.

His steps were much higher when he emerged, freshly showered and fully dressed. His wet hair stuck out at odd angles, but the look strangely suited him. A long low rumble from his stomach sent him to the door, in search of breakfast; on his way out, he grabbed his jacket and keys.

Dean whistled as he sauntered down the hallway, ignoring the looks people gave him. So what if it was a bit loud, he could whistle indoors if he wanted to. He was in a surprisingly good mood; whistling was practically called for.

His thoughts turned briefly to the dark haired man he had seen the night before. Did he have a room here? Would Dean get to see him again? Not that it mattered either way, it was just innocent curiosity.  
So why did the thought of never seeing him again make Dean's bright mood lessen a bit?

Ahead of him the elevator doors opened and he ran to slip in before they closed. Oddly enough, there was no one in the elevator or waiting to get on. So who had pushed the button?

Dean shrugged it off and rode blissfully down to the first floor. It didn't take very long, even though he was on the next to top floor; the hotel was only four stories high.

The elevator stopped at the second floor and a young woman got on. They rode down in silence, Dean beaming and her glancing over awkwardly. He asked himself again what was wrong with these people. All the suspicion, none of the fun.

They both exited on the bottom floor and parted ways. Dean burst through the front doors and into the sunlight, spreading his arms wide. Despite the meager amount of sleep, he felt wonderfully renewed. Sunshine bright and ready to take on anything.

There was a lovely little restaurant nearby and he wasted no time in claiming a booth and ordering enough to feed at least three people.

While shoveling food in his mouth he didn't notice the figure sitting at a table near him, watching with a frown. The onlooker rested his elbows on the table, folded his hands, placed his chin upon them. He watched with an amused fascination as Dean ate every single bite that was laid out in front of him. Then he took a sip of too sweetened coffee and stood to leave.

Meanwhile, Dean pushed back the wadded up wrappers and napkins and wondered over what he should do that day. This town was still as void of activities as it had been the day before, but Dean's outlook made it seem better, full of opportunities. He knew he didn't want to spend the day researching and tracking down a hunt. He didn't want to call Sam and whine about him not being there yet. Maybe he could going swimming... Bird watching, driving back roads, ...jogging. Man, was there nothing that didn't make him seem like a hick?

He finally resolved to return to the hotel and watch TV. Maybe not the outdoor activity this sunny day deserved, but he could open a window or something. A cool breeze, a cold beer, and an uninterrupted day of splendidly trashy movies. What more could he ask for?

He payed for his food and walked slowly back, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his skin. It had been far too long since he'd had a chance to enjoy any peace like this. Since he had sold his soul, they were constantly fighting something, as if they were making full use of the time they had left.

But no... Dean had only a few months left before the hell hounds would come for him. And how was he spending his precious time? Battling evil, which was good; but he could be enjoying this time with his brother. They could be taking it easy, getting into mischief, and spending time making_ good_ memories instead of risking their lives daily. This reprieve was a welcome change to the bullshit that was their lives. So why couldn't they just have this time to be happy for what little time they had left; why couldn't he even be granted that? Hadn't he done enough to deserve something good? Even if it would all end soon, he would take whatever positive thing came along and he would savor it, until his time here came to an end; that was a promise.

Finally, back at the hotel, Dean pressed the button and waited for the elevator. When the doors opened he got the shock of his life.

Facing him was the raven haired man from the night before; the one he was worried he would never see again. No, not worried. Just curious. There was no harm in curiosity.

Both men stared at the other, eyes wide, frozen in surprise. The elevator made a noise and the doors started to slide shut, but the man's arm shot up and held it open.

His eyes narrowed and he demanded, "Are you stalking me?"

Dean blinked. _Stalking?_ He hadn't been stalking him. He didn't even know he was here; although considering his discovery of the brochure, that was a pretty immature assumption to make.

The man stared at him accusingly. Considering how threatening he looked right now, a person would have to be crazy to try and cross him. Dean wasn't that crazy. But he was that ridiculously defensive. He bristled and stood up as straight as he could, trying to intimidate the other man. It didn't seem to be working; his glare held.

Dean huffed and replied, "I'm not stalking you. I was just looking for a decent place to stay. And besides, you know how small this town is. I could have run into you anywhere, anytime. Or do you just automatically assume that every person you see more than once is a stalker?"

The man tilted his head and looked Dean up and down, making him squirm. Finally, he relaxed. "I guess not." He said. Then he took a step back, beckoning, and asked, "You getting in?"

Dean entertained the thought of passing this ride, but he decided that he had already been rude enough. Besides, it was easier to get it over with now. And he would be able to get to his room more quickly if he accepted. And he could spend a little more time with this strange man. Not that that was why he was doing it.

He stepped into the elevator and the man lowered his arm, letting the doors close. "What floor are you on?" The man asked, looking at Dean sideways. "Three." He answered instantly, before realizing that this man could actually be a psycho killer. After all, he knew nothing about him. Why oh why hadn't Dean waited until the man had gone up?

He caught a glimpse of the man's smile and couldn't help noticing that he pushed the '3' and then the '4' button. So he was on the floor above Dean. What an interesting tidbit of information that Dean would hold on to in case he was asked to deliver a message or something.

They stood side by side, facing forward, Dean's arms crossed and the man's hands folded behind his back. The silence that filled the elevator was only broken by the occasional unnerving creak from the cables pulling them up.

The man spoke up suddenly. "I'm sorry for that. I can be a bit paranoid at times." He said, "It's just the by-product of a messy home life; you're always looking over your shoulder."

Dean swallowed and nodded, unsure of how to answer. The man peered at him. "I'm Castiel, by the way." He said, extending a hand. Dean took his hand and shook it, struggling to find his voice. "Dean." Was all he managed. The man smiled and Dean felt his cheeks heat up. He released his hand and crossed his arms again, facing the door. This elevator ride was taking far too long already. His palm tingled from contact and he marveled at how soft and warm Castiel's hand was.

"So what brings you here?" Came the question from beside him. "I'm waiting for my brother." He answered quickly.

Castiel laughed suggestively, "I'll bet." Dean shot a look at him and Castiel's smile dropped. "Sorry." He ducked his head in atonement.

Just when Dean thought something had malfunctioned, the doors opened and he stepped out.

"How long are you staying?" Castiel inquired, making Dean turn back to look at him. "I don't know. Another day, maybe two?"

"Okay," Castiel flashed a smile, "Maybe I'll see you again."

Dean swallowed and licked his bottom lip nervously. "Yeah, maybe." He said. Then he turned around and walked down the hallway to his room. Once there, he looked back just in time to see Castiel's bright blue eyes disappear behind the elevator doors.

Odds are they would see each other again. Like Dean had said, it was a very small town.

Anything was possible.


	2. First Dates and Rubber Chickens

_Okay, my lovelies, so I thought I had this story in all figured out... And apparently I have lost all control over it, as Castiel so likes to point out. ;P_

_He was supposed to be all unsuspecting and naive. But evidently he has turned into a bad boy and wants to take Dean in every single scene I write -_-_

_I don't know how to help this. Sorry._  
_On the bright side, it's more fun for you guys... Right? :)_

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**Chapter Two: Gay**

* * *

Dean didn't know why he was on the fourth floor. After they had sorted out the whole 'stalking' mistake, he had seen Castiel several times. In the first six hours, they had run into each other at least five more times. Going out for lunch, complaining about a loud party , crossing paths in the lobby, spotting each other from across the street. It was weird.

If it hadn't been a small town, and if they hadn't already established a mutual _un_-stalking-interest in each other, it might have seemed suspicious. But, as it was, each time they simply smiled, nodded, and looked away.

So why had Dean pushed the button for the fourth floor? Why had he ridden up, gotten out, and started walking down the hallway, wondering which room was Castiel's?

It wasn't as if he_ was_ stalking him. He had just seen that a theater had opened and he didn't want to go by himself.

But, cursing his impulsivity now, he walked uncertainly up and down the hallway. It would be rude to knock on doors; but how else was he going to find him?

His unspoken prayers were answered when a tall blonde came prancing down the hall toward him. He tried to keep his attention away from her overly revealing neckline as he asked her if she knew which room Castiel was staying in. She gave him a strange look and pointed at a door marked 112.

He watched her walk away and knocked lightly on Castiel's door. The crazy thought whispered in his mind that if he was quiet enough then maybe Castiel wouldn't hear him and he could go on his way. But within seconds after knocking, the door opened and Castiel's surprised face appeared before him.

Dean could feel himself starting to blush and regretted doing this. Boredom really had a weird affect on him.

Dean chose to go ahead and ask, he had already come all this way, after all. "Hi." He started.

Castiel cocked his head to one side. He seemed to be waiting for Dean's reason of showing up here.

"I, uh, I saw that there was a theater near here and I was going to go see a movie and I wondered if you wanted to go?" His face grew hotter with every word that slipped out of his mouth.

Castiel blinked once. His face was blank but his eyes betrayed the curiousity he felt. All of a sudden realization dawned on him and he smirked mischievously. "What did you want to see?" He asked.

Dean was thrown off guard. He hadn't really expected Castiel to accept his invitation. "Uhm, I... don't really know what's playing." He admitted, blush deepening. "I guess whatever you-"

"Paranormal Activity 4." Castiel interrupted. Dean stared at him. "I like the supernatural." He shrugged. Then he reached behind the door and pulled on the trenchcoat Dean had seen him wearing the first time they 'met'.

Dean stepped back, giving him room to stand in the hallway and lock his door. He glanced at Dean. His cocky smile was still in place when he queried, "So... Is this a date?"

Dean stared back with wide eyes and stuttered, "N-No! I- I wouldn't-"

"It's okay," Castiel cut him off, "I won't try to cop a feel or anything." There was an evil glint in his eye when he added, "Depending on how things go."

Dean began to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. Of course it would be better to sit alone in a movie theater than try to fend off Castiel's inappropriate advances in the dark.

Once again he was reminded that he knew nothing about this man.

A heart gripping thought burst up out of nowhere; Dean wondered why he hadn't considered it before.

_Castiel might be gay._

Oh no... Castiel might be gay. And he might think Dean is gay, too. And he might start thinking they're a couple.

Oh.

Holy.

Freaking.

Shit.

* * *

Very few people had shown up for the midnight showing of Paranormal Activity 4. Dean couldn't figure out if it was because the rest were all sleeping, the first three movies had grown progressively worse, or the supernatural was just not as popular as it used to be. His money was on the first one. He hadn't realized how late it was.

When they arrived at the theater, Castiel had insisted on getting popcorn and on Dean paying for it. At first, he refused, but then Castiel started protesting very loudly that Dean should be the one to pay for popcorn on a date. Dean quickly handed over the money to shush him up. The cashier looked at them warily, which made Dean upset, but Cas just laughed it off.

Soon they were settled into seats, neither too far from the screen nor too close. Dean was having a hard time paying attention to the movie, because every time Castiel reached for the popcorn he tensed up, sure he was going to make a move. But Castiel's eyes never left the screen, except to look disappointedly at the empty popcorn bucket.

Then the final credits were rolling and he stood up and stretched. Dean's forehead puckered as he tried to piece together what the movie had been about from the little bits he had seen. Screaming, haunting, terrified people. Pretty much the same as the other three.

Castiel smiled as they made their way out and asked, "Wasn't that good?" Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. His thoughts were occupied elsewhere.

_Would Castiel try to kiss him when they returned to the hotel? He had suggested it was possible. Would he try to do more than kiss him? ...Why hadn't he tried anything in the theater? Why couldn't that good behavior last so Dean didn't have to think about things like this?_

They spent the short walk back in silence. Castiel admiring the stars the whole way and Dean slouched in worry over what awaited him at the hotel.

The lull in their conversation kept up until they were at the hotel, on the fourth floor.

It was time to say goodbye.

Dean's anxiety mounted when Castiel turned in his direction instead of getting off of the elevator. The black haired man quirked an eyebrow and took a step forward. "That was the best date I've ever been on. I'll have to think up some way to repay you." His voice held hidden meanings and his cheek was lifted in a self confident leer.

Dean sucked in a deep breath and blurted out, "Stop!" He backed up, putting some space between them. Castiel obediently stayed in place. "I'm sorry," Dean went on, "I don't- I_ can't_... This isn't..." His voice trailed off.

Castiel became serious. He cupped Dean's chin and lifted his head, holding him there until their gazes met. There was no humor in his face when he spoke. "It's okay, I was just kidding around. I didn't mean to take things this far. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

He released Dean and swept away, down the hallway and into his apartment.

Dean struggled to regain control of his heartbeat as the doors closed. He barely paid attention when the elevator stopped at the second floor and a young couple on. They didn't even look at him, they were so busy giggling and flirting with each other. That was fine. Dean was mulling over where things stood now.

Okay, so Castiel _wasn't_ gay.

_Well, not true. He didn't actually say he was straight, he could still be gay._

But he knew Dean had a line, and he knew not to cross it.

_Well... so they hadn't actually set any boundaries..._

Then what in the world had happened?

_He had apologized for making Dean uncomfortable. Which meant he was one of those guys that acted that way without meaning anything._

He hadn't meant to take things that far.

_So boredom probably made him act strangely, too._

Funny thing, boredom. It could make you do anything.

Dean stepped off on his floor and entered his room in a daze. Exhaustion clouded his head the instant he stepped inside and it was all he could do to find his bed in the darkness. He fell into it, resolving himself to keep a clearer eye on his actions, to make sure he didn't do anything irrational. Like ask people he didn't even know to go to the movies.

Somewhere in that foggy sleep-ridden haze his mind kept working, pumping out all sorts of crazy thoughts.

He decided that he wanted to get to know Castiel better.

He decided that they were friends.

He decided that rubber chickens were hilarious.

This is what sleep deprivation does to you.


	3. Awkward Peace Offerings and First Kisses

Hey,_ you guys! :D Thank you all SO much for the support! I know it's taken me a while, but I've been very busy recently. And hopefully I'll have some great news to share with you soon! :D __But, anywho, for those of you who took the time to review this story and were patient enough to stick around for this next chapter; this is for all of you! :) __A special shoutout of love for Countess Impossible! _

_And before I let you all go to it, know that reviews are the sparks that feed my fangirl fire! So dish out some words of love- or even critisism- and I'll work just that much harder! xD _

_B__uuuuut, that's enough from me- Please, enjoy!_

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**Chapter Three~ Awkward Peace Offerings and First Kisses**

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It was nearly mid-afternoon when Dean was awoken by the sound of incessant pounding at his door. He was alarmed that the building might be on fire or something, but it was soon clear that he didn't need to worry about that. Throwing open the door, he found himself facing the endless blue depths of Castiel's eyes. He didn't look worried at all as he took in Dean's haggard appearance, a wicked grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Still in bed?" He asked, tilting his head to one side.

Dean raked a hand through his unruly hair, hoping that it wasn't as messy as it felt. "We did get in pretty late last night. Excuse me if I'm not exactly at my best."

Head stilted cocked to one side, Castiel announced, "I am taking you out for coffee today."

Dean wasn't sure what to say. He blinked. Then blinked again. He opened his mouth and shut it.

It took Castiel a moment before he spoke again. When he did, the assumption caught Dean by surprise, "Is your lover inside waiting for you?"

Immediately Dean shook his head and exclaimed, "No! I don't- I don't have a lover. I already told you, I'm here to wait for my brother."

Skepticism covered Castiel's face and he peered uncertainly past Dean and into his room.

Dean huffed, "I promise you, there's no one in there." He was unprepared for Castiel's response, which was to brighten and grab Dean's arm, pulling him out into the hall.

"Let's go then, shall we?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" He wrenched free from the other man's grasp and retreated back to his door. The look of hurt he was rewarded with made him blurt out, "I'll go with you. But I have to get ready first."

"Oh, yes, of course. Sorry, I got a bit ahead of myself."

Dean self consciously made him wait out in the hallway. He didn't trust Cas at all not to try and steal a peek at him changing.

It only took a few moments for Dean to hurriedly speed through the motions of getting ready. The only time he slowed down was to debate whether or not he should wear some cologne or something. It wasn't as if this was a date; he wouldn't be doing it so Cas would notice. And besides, the uninhibited man would probably point it out and say something obscene in front of people which would embarrass Dean.

Ugh, why was he even doing this? Hadn't he already been exposed to enough lewd comments from the other man? This must be one of the many hazards of boredom.

To lose all traces of logical thinking.

...

"So what prompted this act of kindness?" He asked Castiel, when he rejoined him in the hall. His reply was a shrug, followed by, "I was thinking about what happened last night, and I decided that the best way to apologize would be to treat you to coffee."

"Coffee isn't the usual peace offering, but I'll accept it." Dean laughed.

They strode side by side through the hotel, unconsciously keeping in step with each other. Silence claimed the conversation and, before they were even aware of it, they were outdoors. A cool breeze blew past them, taking the time to dance with each man's hair before moving on. Dean couldn't help appreciating how attractive Castiel was; especially now, haloed in the vibrant sunlight. It wasn't as if he was _attracted to_ him; just that he was handsome. There was nothing wrong with noticing how another man looked.

Castiel glanced at Dean. He paused mid-stride. "What?"

"What?"

"You were looking at me strangely."

"No, I wasn't." Dean laughed awkwardly and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, wanting to the conversation to end so they could go on. He knew this was going somewhere he didn't want it to; it was inevitable.

"Yes, you were! You looked like you wanted to jump me right here." Yup. He knew it. Castiel's close presence made Dean force himself to swallow. He couldn't manage an answer, and just shook his head slowly. "I'm apologizing right now. Don't put those kinds of thoughts in my head." Castiel's gaze momentarily darkened with lust, but the change was so quick Dean wasn't sure he had really seen it.

They stared at each other. The only movement came from the wind and Dean's chest visibly rising and falling as he breathed. Castiel's demeanor was cool and composed; the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His electric blue stare held Dean like a pin to a butterfly. It was impossible to move. Impossible to breathe, or think, or see anything else other than the most beautiful creature in the universe.

He took a deep breath and looked away, breaking the spell and making Dean blush. "So, we should get going. We're almost there." He said, facing the direction of the diner and resuming his casual pace.

Dean jumped back into stride and glared pointedly at the sidewalk. "Yeah, I know."

...Why was his heart beating so hard?

...

Two cups of coffee sat on the table, cream swirling, breathing out wisps of steam that faded into the air. Dean had always found it fascinating how the steam just disappeared midair, like it was escaping to some other dimension. It was unusual but it was one of those things that he thought about. ...He probably had too much time on his hands. Yup. Boredom. Where everything is so endlessly fascinating and infuriating at the same time.

Castiel took his coffee unsweetened with only a little cream. Dean on the other hand, poured in cream and at least seven packets of sugar.

"What? I like it sweet." He defended, when Castiel gave him a questioning look. Cas shook his head in amusement and returned to his own drink. He gazed down into the black liquid like it was the most intriguing thing he'd ever seen.

A heavy atmosphere settled over their table like the aftermath of an uncomfortable joke. Meanwhile, everyone else was engaging in conversation, a mix of voices playing throughout the diner like the music of human interaction.

Dean chewed on his lip, his mind completely blank. It wasn't like they had much in common. And given the advances that followed their little trip to the theater and prompted this outing, bringing up last night was not a good route to explore. It would only make the situation worse if he said what he was thinking.

If he even let himself _remember_ the tones of hidden meaning in Castiel's voice.

The way his eyes had darkened when they got close...

Nope. That it was definitely something he didn't want to dwell on. Not when the man in his thoughts- the one that continuously made him blush- was seated across from him, looking particularly cool as he rested his chin in his palm and pursed his lips.

Dean blinked rapidly and diverted his attention to the couple at the table nearest to them. It featured a brown haired guy and a small red-haired girl; both wearing glasses. A nice, nerdy couple. Speaking of nerds...

Dean's thoughts went briefly to Sam. Where _was_ Sam now? He would have to call his younger brother when he returned to the hotel and tell him to _hurry up and get his ass down here_.

Castiel let out a short sigh, reminding Dean of his presence. The hunter glanced around and searched his brain for something, _anything,_ to say.

"So, um, this isn't awkward at all." Nice. Great. And that was your _best_ attempt.

Castiel was completely detached as he answered, "Actually, I find the level of awkwardness more than mildly disturbing."

Dean bristled.

It wasn't as if _he_ was the one that barged into _Castiel's_ room and yanked him out to this place. ...Not that his invitation to the movies had been dissimilar.

But that wasn't the point! The point was that _Castiel_ was the one who had promised an apology and instead sat here like a half-awake student in algebra class!

"Well, you're the one who suggested this." He shot back, folding his arms defiantly across his chest.

Castiel's eyes bore into Dean's, his brow furrowed. "Are you blaming me for your inability to converse with other people?"

"Inability? I was _trying_ to make some conversation!" Disbelief colored Dean's tone and he stared, offended, across the table.

"'_Gee, this is awkward_.' How charming." Castiel mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Things were escalating quickly and Castiel's criticism wasn't helping a thing.

Dean glared at him and gritted his teeth. Some apology _this_ was! And Castiel couldn't even be bothered to admit responsibility. Well, Dean knew it wasn't _his_ fault and he wasn't going to sit back and take this! He leaned across the table and hissed, "Oh, _thanks_. I can tell _you're_ really making an effort."

They stared each other down; inherent male pride preventing either from giving in and being the first to look away. The heat from Dean's anger tinted his face crimson and the muscle in his jaw ticked as he faced Cas. The raven haired man was calm and collected, but the stone set of his features was as telling as Dean's scowl.

For the next few minutes the air between them hummed with restrained indignation.

Then Castiel abruptly sucked in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Okay, this isn't what I intended. Let's calm down and try to have an intelligent conversation."

Dean sat back, attempting to stifle his anger. He searched his brain for subject changer. And came up empty again.

Castiel stared at him. "Well, you're just bubbling over with enthusiasm, aren't you?" He scoffed.

"I don't hear you coming up with a good topic!" Dean snapped in response.

"Well, it's a shame it didn't come with the coffee."

Dean's lip curled in disdain, "Stop being such a smartass."

"What's the matter, Dean? Too many unhappy family vacations leave you with some daddy issues?" Cas leered.

Fury sparked and rose up again in an instant, choking Dean with its force. "Sh-Shut up!" He sputtered.

It took Cas by surprise at first, but then he grinned, "Oh, did I hit a nerve?"

Dean was irked by the sick pleasure Cas seemed to take in badgering him. "That's none of your business!" He all but shouted, drawing the attention of several of the people sitting closest to them.

Suddenly Castiel was inches from Dean's face, wearing a dark smile and snarling, "I'm making it my business!"

Dean snapped.

Before he even realized what he was doing, he had Castiel by the collar and was swinging back for a punch.

Maybe it was because it was such a surprise, or he knew he deserved it, or he just didn't think Dean would actually hit him. But Castiel took the full force of the impact without defending against it.

He fell backwards in his chair; both crashing to the floor. Dean stood on the other side of the table seething, fists clenched, glaring murderously down at Castiel's stunned expression.

"Don't ever talk about my family." He growled.

Everyone in the diner watched the furious hunter storm through the door; bell atop the door ringing violently with the force of his exit. The shocked audience turned their eyes to Castiel as Dean strode off down the street.

The raven haired man was still on the floor, speechless, as surprised by Dean's explosion as the incredulous onlookers. He blinked and raised a hand to his aching jaw absently. Quickly, he recovered himself and jumped up to his feet, righting the chair in one swift movement and chasing out after Dean.

He caught sight of him a few meters down the street and yelled for him to stop. Dean didn't skip a step or slow down. Castiel took up pursuit; his long legs immediately giving him the advantage. In no time at all, he was grabbing hold of Dean's arm and forcing him to stop.

Dean had already begun to regret his outburst; the second his fist met Castiel's face, he regretted it. But you couldn't convince him the other man didn't deserve it in the first place. Dean just had a conscience, that's all.

He refused to look Castiel in the eye, though, when he stood before him, catching his breath.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry." He panted, "I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. I just keep screwing things up." Cas sighed, running a hand through his reckless hair.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, not allowing him to speak. Not that he knew what to say anyway... What was it with this guy that made him unbearably sadistic one minute and then flash Dean the most repentant puppy dog look the next? Maybe he was bipolar. Or just insane.

Whatever was behind his changeable behaviour never failed to catch Dean off-guard. He didn't expect Castiel to accept the blame for what just happened. And he certainly didn't expect what Castiel did next.

Which was take Dean by the waist and pull him into a kiss.

The other man's lips were soft and warm against his own. It was a gentle kiss; chaste. And yet so sinfully wrong it felt _good_.

Dean found himself leaning into Cas, eyes sliding shut, one hand rising to tangle in his obsidian hair. His other hand lowered to rest lightly on Castiel's waist, fingers splayed. Heat radiated through the layers of clothing and urged Dean closer.

Castiel's hand slid to the small of Dean's back, pressing their bodies together. His tongue darted out to skim over Dean's bottom lip.

And then, all too soon, he was pulling away. Dean dropped his hands to his sides immediately, red rising in his cheeks.

A slow smile spread across Castiel's face as he watched Dean's reaction. The hunter stiffened when Cas leaned in again. But the other man passed his lips, making him relax slightly and then suck in a shocked breath.

Castiel's lips hovered near his ear. His warm breath sent a shiver down Dean's spine. "Thank you for everything."

He took a step back and cocked his head, taking in Dean's frozen state. Then he laughed, patting Dean's arm, and said, "Don't spaz out. It was just a kiss."

_It was just a kiss. _The words echoed in his head.

Yes. It's true it was _just_ a kiss. ...So why did it feel like more? And why did it seem like every time Dean was around this crazily bold man, something happened that raised a cloud of new questions and never resolved any of the old ones?

He would have to get some answers; soon. That was obvious.

...But that would have to wait until he could move again. Right now there was just too much.

Too much contact. Too much interaction. Too many... yearnings he couldn't quite control. Which was ridiculous; he was the most heterosexual guy in the universe. There was nothing Castiel could do that would ever change that.

And the fact that Dean was rooted to this spot while Castiel curiously looked on wasn't important in the least. Neither was the fact that his heart skipped a beat whenever he dared to glance into those too-blue eyes and his words seemed to have been swallowed up into infinity. Nor the all too real possibility that, in some teensy, microscopic, so-small-it-hardly-mattered way... He might have just liked that kiss. A lot.

_Oh no..._


	4. Confused and Conflicted

_Hello, there, my lovelies! I know it has taken so long for me to get this up here. My production time sucks, I'm sorry -_- Please, don't punish me! D:_

_It sounds like an excuse- and um... it probably is- but I have been really busy lately :3 I watched both seasons of Junjou Romantica, the last season of House, went to stay at my mamaw's house with my cousin, Brianna. She got a job at Burger King and brought me my very first Whopper! :o It was sooooo good ^-^ Like the heavens parting, and angels singing, and luscious full-lipped boys dancing gaily :D _

_Also, my best friend/first love moved out to Oklahoma and is applying for a job hanging _upside down_ cleaning things, and is probably going to die so... :P My response was to eat a carton of strawberry ice cream and drink a 2 liter of Dr. Pepper o.o So, um, _thank-you_ human response *sarcasm*._

_I don't wish to bore you so I'll wrap this up- As much as I want to bribe you with all the wonderful irresistible goodies in the world, I have been reading a lot of fanfiction lately and none of my promises are as colorful and enticing as those of others (Say, TheCouchCarrot)! D: So... rather than sway your affection and loyalty with all the best presents in the world... I will relinquish a personal tidbit of information with every chapter I upload. Therefore, you get to know little things about me and hopefully will soon be ruled by your curiousity!_

_(Oh, wait, you aren't nearly as weak-willed as I am.) Anywho, enjoy! ^.^ This chapter is, as always, for the brilliant and beautiful Countess Impossible! ;)_

* * *

**Chapter Four~Confused and Conflicted**

* * *

He had to be insane.

He had to be completely _out-of-his-mind _fucking_ crazy_.

Why else would he have let Castiel convince him that a kiss between friends meant nothing? That it was an act of apology for all the mean things he'd said, and that they could go about life like nothing had happened. Oh, if only Dean could find a _girl_ with those same loose morals...

But now, Dean was the one with the moral dilemma. Sure, he had seen guys kissing before... To him, it was gross, and abnormal, and he had absolutely zero interest in doing it. Never in his life had he understood why two guys would want to be 'involved' with each other. He was also no stranger to the idea of friends with benefits; that one he greatly approved of. In fact, most of his best friendships had included various benefits.

...But having a friend like Castiel; a guy who went from being Mr. Nice Guy, to being a total jerk, to slipping his tongue in your mouth in three seconds flat? Dean still wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to keep this up. Things were going to get out of hand before long. He could feel it.

Just like he felt the eyes of that blonde with the curvy body watching him as he made his way across the hotel lobby.

He entertained the possibility of bringing her up to his room later, but thought better of it when he remembered the current state of his soul. The chances of spreading damnation were small enough to discount entirely, though, right?

Damn. This was almost worse than having an STD.

But secretly some small part of him, a teensy part way in the back, wanted to hold onto the notion that he should keep all those girls at arm's length. That it was better for _them_ that he stay away.

The same part whispered of a secret impulse to reach out and clasp Castiel's hand tightly in his own; even if it was just the longing to hold onto something familiar. But it was still only a small part; nothing that begged notice or caused worry. It was dismissible.

As per their unspoken reconciliation, Dean exchanged farewells with Castiel in the elevator, being the first to reach his floor and depart, with a light-hearted smile and a wave. With the sound of the elevator doors closing, however, the facade fell and the hunter's troubled thoughts became apparent on his face. It wasn't the concern of what _Castiel_ would do that bothered him; much. It was the realization that if he _did_ do something...

Dean had absolutely no self control.

And that's what taunted him most about the kiss. Cas had initiated it, sure...But _Dean_ was the one who didn't stop him, didn't pull away. He had gone along with it. Without even thinking about it, he had been swept away by the moment, and didn't care about anything except kissing back. It was his _own_ inappropriate behavior that worried him.

And that's why he would stay as far from this man as politely possible until Sam came. He had no choice.

Soon after falling into bed that evening, he slipped off into a sound but troubled sleep.

...

After what seemed like only a few minutes, Dean was startled awake by the sound of someone knocking at his door. Before he had time to even wonder who it was, a fairly urgent voice broke through the cloud of exhaustion in his mind. "Dean, are you awake? Dean!"

It was Castiel.

Of course it was Castiel; wasn't he always the one that kept interrupting Dean's few peaceful moments?

Dean was more than annoyed when he turned over and squinted at the clock on the wall. The long hand was pointed more or less straight down, and, oh shit, was the short hand on _four_?

_4:30 am..._

Castiel was dead meat.

The knocking continued with short intervals of impatient silence when Cas waited for an answer, then pounded three or four more times and called for him. His voice grated on Dean's nerves and increased the level of irritation he felt, sluggishly pushing himself up to his feet and stalking to the door. He threw it open and narrowed his eyes at Castiel, who seemed to brighten at gaining the hunter's attention.

"What do you want?" Dean ground out, struggling not to punch Castiel in his gorgeous, arrogant, inconsiderate bastard face.

Cas smiled and then, all at once, Dean remembered the kiss. He glanced down at the smooth curve of the mouth his had been pressed to merely hours before.

His heart stopped. Swallowing, he asked, "Why are you here?" The question was rewarded with the parting of those perfect pink lips to reveal a bright grin. His eyes wanted to resist obeying, but he managed to drag them away from Cas' good looks with some effort.

"Dean, I've been thinking about what happened between us earlier."

"Ah... you mean the whole decking you thing?" He rubbed the back of his neck, breathing a sigh of relief that that was all it was, "Look, I'm sorry I overreacted. Family is a touchy subject for me, I didn't mean anything by it. But it didn't even leave a mark so we should be fine right?" He continued, looking back only long enough to examine the area his fist had met Cas' face. Strangely enough, there were no marks whatsoever left over from his attack. Huh. He usually packed a punch that left a lasting impression a week after dealt.

"I didn't mean that." Castiel said, tilting his head, "...I meant the kiss."

A furious red burned in Dean's cheeks, reaching up to the tips of his ears. He clamped his mouth shut, hands turning into tight fists, and turned around, letting Castiel follow him into the room, wanting more privacy than the hallway could afford and at the same time wishing he could avoid this conversation altogether.

"What about it?" He asked, not sparing a glance back.

There was a short pause. Then a disturbingly suggestive, "Didn't you like it?" Although it was phrased as a question, it came across as more of a provocative attempt at...

Was he trying to seduce Dean?

The hunter shifted from one foot to the other; for once completely clueless about what he should do. He considered the options.

_"Nope, sorry. Men really do nothing for me."_

_"I've had worse."_

_"I've had better."_

_"Kiss? What kiss? I don't remember a kiss."_

Or he could just tell the truth.

...What truth?

That he liked it? That wasn't right.

No.

No, no, no. He would never accept that as the truth. And even if it was he certainly wouldn't tell Castiel. So, like the rolling stone he was, he decided to be true to his reputation... and act like a complete ass.

"It was just a kiss." He shrugged indifferently, "I don't see why it matters."

A frown passed over Cas' face. "Don't act like you don't care or you'll make me mad." He warned; by no means joking.

Dean scoffed, "Hey, I don't know what you want me to say... It's not like I give a shit about what you do with your mouth."

Now Castiel was glaring daggers at the smirking hunter. "Don't lie to me." He admonished in a voice so low Dean had to repress a shiver. "I'm not lying!" Dean shot back, refusing to meet those too blue eyes.

"Really?" Castiel moved closer to Dean, so close he could touch him, and challenged his words, "So if I took you right now with my mouth until you were weak-kneed and out of your mind with the sensation of having me tongue your length... You wouldn't care?" His surprisingly dark eyes held Dean captive and it was all the helpless brunette could do to keep his legs from giving out.

Castiel's words sent him spiraling into the unknown. A place where having this man looking at him the way he was now and saying those things made Dean seriously wish he was gay.

But he wasn't. No. Never. No way. Not in a millio-

Castiel's fingers were suddenly wrapped in Dean's hair, pulling him forward into an unexpected kiss. His ferocity was shocking and Dean found himself breathless after only a few seconds.

A hot slick tongue pushed its way in uninvited and probed his mouth, running over every inch, like Cas was committing it to memory. Dean tried to stifle the sounds he made in response, but when Castiel grabbed his bottom lip between his teeth and _pulled_... There wasn't enough willpower in the world to keep Dean from groaning shamelessly.

He began to kiss back enthusiastically, blissfully losing himself in every skillful stroke of that velvety tongue. He could taste- actually _taste_- the fire racing through the other man. It was like sparks in his mouth, exploding fireworks in his mind, wiping out every thought except meeting Cas' inistent demands.

They pulled apart to catch their breath. Dean was still panting when Cas caught his lower lip again, sucking it into his mouth. He nibbled, bit, licked, and teased until it started to hurt. But it was the best kind of pleasure-pain. The kind that sent tingles shooting down Dean's spine and made him curl his toes; which was an extremely girly thing that he would never ever admit to doing.

Despite his desperate attempts at maintaining what tiny bit of self control he had left, he found himself giving in. His head lolled back and Castiel adapted to the loss of Dean's lips by going instead to his throat. He pressed gentle kisses to the pulse point before latching on and continuing his ardent attention, drawing a long moan from Dean.

He raised his hands and fisted the fabric of Castiel's trench-coat, arching into him, relishing the feel of their bodies grinding together. Before Dean knew what was happening, he was dragging Castiel to the bed and pulling the other man down on top of him.

Castiel kissed Dean again fervently and then raised up to his knees to hurriedly remove his jacket and shirt. The he pushed Dean's own shirt up and over his head. They reconnected in their kiss with even more passion than before, bare chests grazing and pushing against each other with each ragged breath.

Dean wound his fingers in Cas' midnight black hair and marveled at its softness. Castiel gave a deep satisfied moan and kissed down Dean's body, until he was level with his belt. He grinned cockily up at Dean, who watched him with eager eyes. Castiel's own eyes gleamed with mischief and he slowly unfastened the belt, pulling it halfway off before stopping.

Dean's eyebrows creased in confusion. Lust darkened blue eyes danced, never leaving green ones, and long pale fingers slid up the hunter's abdomen. Castiel lightly raised his body up, hovering over Dean's. He looked like a predator, some feral cat, with glinting eyes and sharp white teeth bared in a hungry leer.

He lowered his head ever so slowly to the sensitive area just above Dean's waist, then waited there, taunting Dean with his gaze and breathing purposefully on the exposed skin. His breath was warm and tickled the soft flesh; a sensation that quickened Dean's heartbeat.

He looked down pleadingly and tried to keep from moving his body up to meet Castiel's parted lips. "Please..." Dean managed breathlessly.

"Please, what?"

Dean scrunched his forehead at Castiel's goading. It was clear what he wanted, so why humiliate him by making him beg for it?

But as Dean felt the faint hum from Castiel's words flow through his body like a wave, he couldn't care less that his dignity was well on its way out the nearest window.

His expression transformed into one of anticipation, and using his most beseeching voice he said, "Please. Please touch me."

Castiel was surprised by Dean's willingness. There was nothing in the world that could keep him from ravishing Dean now. Not with the way he submitted so easily.

Cas pressed his open lips to Dean's sensitive flesh and lightly flicked with the tip of his tongue, making the hunter gasp and close his eyes. He rolled his hips into Castiel's tender kisses and not-so-tender little bites. He let out a shaky sigh and restlessly gripped at the sheets before lifting his hands up and grabbing the headboard, using the leverage to move his body upwards even further. Castiel's hot mouth worked tirelessly while his hands roamed around Dean's chest.

The air was filled with the sound of Dean's moans and Castiel's happy groans. A churning heat was building low in Dean's belly. Castiel hadn't even taken his pants off yet and he was hard to the point of discomfort. Every swipe of Castiel's lips, teeth, and tongue sent chills running through his body. If they didn't hurry, Dean was going to come all on his own just from this.

"C-Cas," He stuttered, "P... Please... I nee... _Ah!_" Dean was cut off by the sudden heat of Castiel's hand cupping his crotch.

"Say it, Dean." Cas murmured against the squirming man's blushed skin, "Tell me what you want."

Dean rose up into Castiel's touch and leaned his head all the way back. "_Do it_." He urged, the need plain in his voice, "Take me. Please..._ I need you_."

And that was all it took for Castiel to spring into action.

He whipped off Dean's belt in one sharp movement and yanked his pants down.

In the rush of activity that followed, both men lost their remaining clothes. Bare skin on skin, hearts pumping together, bodies working in unison. Closer and closer to the pure white blaze of release...

On the very edge of orgasm...

Closer... and _closer_...

.

And then Dean woke up.


End file.
